The English Review, Or, An Abstract of English and Foreign Literature, Volume 25

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J. Murray, 1795
 

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Page 446 - My son, fear thou the LORD and the king : and meddle not with them that are given to change...
Page 49 - In these two princely boys! They are as gentle As zephyrs, blowing below the violet, Not wagging his sweet head: and yet as rough, Their royal blood enchafd, as the rud'st wind, That by the top doth take the mountain pine, And make him stoop to the vale.
Page 159 - Volition, it is plain, is an act of the mind knowingly exerting that dominion it takes itself to have over any part of the man, by employing it in, or withholding it from, any particular action.
Page 307 - ... a brother ! No longer seek him east or west And search no more the forest thorough ; For, wandering in the night so dark, He fell a lifeless corpse in Yarrow. The tear shall never leave my cheek, No other youth shall be my marrow I'll seek thy body in the stream, And then with thee I'll sleep in Yarrow.
Page 37 - Nature sinks. The scorching sun, As pitiless as proud prosperity, Darts on him his full beams; gasping he lies Arraigning with his looks the patient skies, While that inhuman trader lifts on high The mangling scourge.
Page 38 - ... eyes Seem a heart overcharged to express ? She weeps not, yet often and deeply she sighs ; She never complains, but her silence implies The composure of settled distress.
Page 39 - Behind a wide column, half breathless with fear, She crept to conceal herself there : That instant the moon o'er a dark cloud shone clear, And she saw in the moonlight two ruffians appear, And between them a corpse did they bear.
Page 460 - But, oh ! what joy it was to hear him sing In summer, when the day began to spring, Stretching his neck, and warbling in his throat " Solus cum sola,
Page 42 - Red, red are her ripe lips, and sweeter than roses, Where could my wee thing wander frae me ?" " I saw nae your wee thing, I saw nae your ain thing, Nor saw I your true love down by yon lea ; But I met my bonnie thing...
Page 37 - Sip the blood-sweeten'd beverage! thoughts like these Haply ye scorn : I thank thee, Gracious God, That I do feel upon my cheek the glow Of indignation, when beneath the rod A sable brother writhes in silent woe.

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